Under the star filled night sky, moonlight streamed through the branches of the trees.
The forest was drenched in stillness, broken only by the occasional chirp of insects or the rustling of leaves.
Everyone had fallen into a deep sleep everyone except the masked man.
He sat on a low rock, watching the leaves sway with the wind.
Nearby, Oliver slept on the grass, and beside him, Lemur lay on his back, eyes fixed on the moon.
Under that pale light, memories surfaced those nights he used to leave the cave to gaze at the moon while his father stood guard at the entrance.
He remembered his mother's smile, her calm voice whispering whenever he cried from fear or sorrow:
"Warriors don't cry, my little one."
Now, as he looked up at the sky, he felt tears threatening to fall once more.
He quickly wiped his face with his hand.
"Warriors don't cry."
The last bloody scene refused to let him rest.
The image of his tribe being slaughtered kept replaying in his mind without pause.
